


(when time and space) collide

by constanted



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: (the major character death is like. meaningless tbh), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Astral Plane, Gen, More tags to be added!, Repressed Memories, anyway this is gonna be a fun one. strap in ladies and gays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-05 17:59:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16372370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constanted/pseuds/constanted
Summary: Magnus knows dying, and he doesn’t know how. But something clicks, as he’s pulled into the Astral Plane-- a simple 'of course,' and a 'there’s always next time.'(or: Magnus' hand slips)





	1. crushed little stars

**Author's Note:**

> "bee," you say, "where's the fourth season of violet beach. don't you have college applications due. aren't you tired of writing multichaps."
> 
> i don't respond.
> 
> "you have a job, bee," you say.
> 
> i don't respond. i open up a new google doc, titled, in all caps, HOT NEW MULTICHAP NUMBER 87.
> 
>  
> 
> anyway. this is gonna be a fun one. buckle up.

So, here’s the thing: his hand slips.

Magnus knows dying, and he doesn’t know how. But something clicks, as he’s pulled into the Astral Plane-- a simple  _of course_ , and a _there’s always next time_. But he sees Taako _scream_ , from the Ethereal Plane, and sees Merle’s arm grab the elf and he semi-feels his semi-stomach turn at the thought of them not having him to protect them. Of the lich, in his body, killing them with his axe. With his knife. With his hands.

His anxieties are quelled by a slightly more pressing matter, though, because he’s about to drown in Hunger. In tar. And he’s pulled himself out, with a heave and a 21 strength roll, but he’s treading. Kravitz’ arm keeps shooting up, and--

And Magnus thinks, he might be dead, but he’s not gonna let somebody he knows get hurt by _this_ . He’s usually in the Stockade if he’s dead this time of year, or the equivalent thereof. He usually _can’t_ save people, but now, here--

(But he’s never been in the Astral Plane before?)

He grabs Kravitz’ arms, and he doesn’t slip, this time, doesn’t fail the person he’s supposed to protect, doesn’t hurt Taako--

And he starts swimming. He remembers, years and years and years ago, there was a physical he had to take for a job. And he got help from--someone. Unexpected. For the physical. An elf. He could swim, but he didn’t have the technical skill he needed to beat out everybody else. And he _needed_ to beat out everybody else, because he _really_ wanted this job, but--

But his whole adult life, he was a carpenter.

His heart feels like it’s about to burst from his chest, a thought Lucretia would call clichéd, but—he doesn’t know why he’s thinking about the Director, right now.

He spots land, eventually, swims with all of his might, channels that memory. Thinks about years after that (he’s only thirty-two?), a day on a beach, and Lucretia-- _why_ does he keep thinking of her?--pushed him in, used some wards to push him out, and she and Lup had _laughed_ , and he swam as fast as he could to sneak up on her and scare the _shit_ out of her, and it had been--a good day. A good day in a good year, and _when the fuck was this,_ and Kravitz is on land. And he is on land. And Kravitz is unconscious. And Magnus _really_ doesn’t know if mouth-to-mouth works on skeleton men. Or if Taako would get mad about him technically kissing his boyfriend.

In this conundrum, Magnus does what he often does to solve problems, re: waking people up, and he slaps Kravitz at about five percent strength.

Kravitz groans, but he wakes up. Breathes, for a little bit, which he doesn’t have to do. Magnus assumes this is for dramatics.

“Magnus,” he says, after a moment, staring up. Magnus offers a hand, which Kravitz takes, and now they’re both sat on the ground on an island in the middle of the Astral Plane, the apocalypse above them, “Why’re you here?”

Magnus shrugs, “I died.”

“Little nonchalant, eh?”

“Uh. I guess.”

Kravitz is looking at him, squinting. He is a genuinely handsome man, the type Magnus would crush on and then feel bad about crushing on, because if nothing else, Magnus is a guilty man re: harmless crushes. But Kravitz is staring awkwardly, now.

“You look different,” he says, “I mean, death tends to do that to a man, but. Well, it suits you.”

The reflectiveness of the tar is remarkable. He almost forgets that it’s a sign of the apocalypse, as he looks at himself.

He isn’t thirty-two. He’s not forty-two, either,  he’s maybe twenty-five, twenty-six--still rough, a little less soft around the edges, but he looks--happier. His brain recites, _displaced souls in the Astral Plane present themselves as they were at the most joyful points in their lives_ , a fact that he really shouldn’t know intuitively. But that fact makes sense: he looks like he did back in Raven’s Roost (which was always, wasn’t it?), back when he was married to Julia.

And he’s wearing clothes from a different period of his life, one where he had a family and something close to a home; some very practical denim trousers, some steel-toe boots, a pretty unremarkable t-shirt, a heavy blue scarf, and then, a really nice bomber jacket. It’s red--of course it’s red, that was his uniform--with a couple patches on it; the one from the Institute, and then the rune from the Bracer of Balance, and then a silhouette of a raven, the symbol of his rebellion. He’s almost touched with the sentimentality of it, but he also doesn’t quite understand ninety percent of his brain’s thoughts, right now.

And--fuck, he had a _family_ , didn’t he? Sure, his grandfather raised him until he was about thirteen, when the old man went and passed passed, and then he was kind of tossed around in foster homes. He wasn’t treated poorly, but he was wont to rebel--he’d pick fights, he’d sneak out, he’d steal. He was hard to manage--a problem child. But that wasn’t _family_ , not really. He had a real family.

So: He was troubled. He was troubled, and people didn’t really _want_ him.

Until, of course, he found the Institute, and they welcomed him in with open arms. And how could he _forget_ the Institute? How the Captain became his biggest defender, how the twins took him under their wings with barely any of their trademark assholery. How Lucretia became a sister to him, how he interned for--and his brain short circuits, there. It’s not ready to remember more, right now.

He realizes that he’s been a decent amount of time since Kravitz spoke.

“Thank you,” he says, and then, “Sorry, I’m just--”

“No, sometimes, dying does this to people. I completely understand if you need to--”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve died,” he says, and that’s absolutely true.

“That’s absolutely true. This is just the first time you’ve bothered to visit, and, unfortunately, it’s maybe the _worst_ time for you to have done it. Because, Magnus, whatever this is, it’s cut off the Raven Queen. It’s cut off your Lady Istus.”

“Hunger,” he supplies, sounding about as dumb as he feels. He can’t stop staring at the logo for the Institute on the jacket.

“Magnus, do you--do you know what this is?”

“Hunger,” he repeats, “Uh. It’s. Bad. I remember--it--when I was twenty? I saw it--”

He saw it envelop the only place he’d ever known. The place where he had _friends_ , where his grandfather was buried. Where all of the younger kids in the homes he had used to run around, where Lucretia had her books, where Taako and Lup were close to tenure, where his mother, wherever the fuck she was, roamed, still, where Greg Grimauldis had those fifteen dollars, and--

He saw it devour his home.

“Magnus, I need you to stay with me. If you know something, I can use that information to try and reconnect with the Celestial Plane--”

“Nobody remembers,” he says. And he stares. Black opal in the sky, in the sea. It’s so familiar, so unfamiliar, so un-unfamiliar. “I barely remember--Eggbabe!”

“Eggbabe?”

“Like--okay--it’s--Fisher!”

“What--?”

“There’s a--okay, so. The Voidfish, which is really called Fisher, because they’re _my_ fish, and _I_ named them, and--okay, like--they had a baby? And they sang to me about it, and I think it’s why nobody remembers, and if Taako and Merle and Davenport _remember_ ,” his mouth is working faster than his brain is. So he stops, puts his head in his hands, “I’m sorry,” he says, and then again, “I’m sorry, we can’t--I can’t protect you--I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying, and--Kravitz, all I know is--we’re--”

Kravitz touches his shoulder. His hands are very cold. Magnus recoils, and offers another, “Sorry.”

“It’s not a problem, Magnus, I’m used to it--you’re handling dying pretty well, actually. Presumably because of the death crimes.” Kravitz smiles, looks at the sky. “I mean--whatever it is, it’s certainly something, speaking purely of aesthetics.”

Magnus has seen it too many times to be caught up by its beauty (because he’s seen it, because he’s missing so much). He knows, intimately, what it will do to this world; the Light is only five-sevenths-- _six_ , six sevenths together, and God knows where Lucretia put the ship, but--

“We need to run. It’s all we can do right now, and I’m usually not the type to say that kinda shit, so you know I’m being serious. Is there any non-godly way to get outta here?”

“Not off the top of my head, not unless some pretty serious planar transmutation was involved.”

“We need to contact Taako, then.”

“No service here. Best receptions are in the Stockade or--”

“So--let’s fuckin’ go. You have any non-patron powers?”

“I’m a level twelve bard, so--”

Magnus counts on his fingers, realizes, oh, he’s leveled up! Nice.

“I’m a level eleven fighter, level three rogue, so. That’s two levels on ya, Kravo. Hope you can keep up.”

“I mean, I am a little more aware of the geography of the Astral Plane than you,” Kravitz says, and he grins, a little lopsided, and Magnus thinks, for all of the weirdos Taako’s dated, he might like this one the most. Even though he tried to kill the team. Like, eighty percent of them have done that. It’s not a disqualification.

“So, take me on a _tour_ , Kravitz, not like we’re fuckin’ surrounded by hell goo, right now.”

“I mean, we’re on an _island_ , right now, which means there’ll be a structure close by. This is, uh,” he takes a second to think, “The obelisk island, it’s where--”   
  
Jokingly, “It’s where we keep the obelisk.”

“I mean, _yeah_ , but it’s where we direct summonings. If we want to get to another plane, this would normally be our best bet, some hormonal teen looking for an undead romance--”

“But it’s not working, cuz the gods are cut off.”

“Exactly. Also, the obelisk just isn’t _here_ , which, I’d have to say, is pretty damn weird.”

“Yeah, you’d think a place called the obelisk island would have, oh, I don’t know, a fucking obelisk on it.”

“There usually is one, in fairness. So, other options... We have the Stockade, which is sort of a central point. That’s secure, but it’s not exactly somewhere I’m welcome after the whole… Maureen Incident. Uh, we have the Cabin, but that’s technically partially Lady Istus’ domain so I have _no idea_ if it’s free--”

“Well,  _I happen to be_ an emissary of Istus.”

“Yes, but she’s _also_ cut off, so if the obelisk is gone, and--oh Gods, Magnus, if the Cabin is gone--”   
He shakes his head, sighs.

“The Reapers’ Quarters should still be up, but I’ve sort of been--not welcome since they found out I’ve been sleeping with an ex-bounty, and, no offense Magnus, but if they’re mad about _that_ , they’re gonna _hate_ me bringing you with me. And then, we have the--”

“Let’s start with the Cabin.”

“There are twenty-seven more islands, Magnus, can I--”

“We don’t have _time_ , we need to _go_ ! The Cabin, and then the Stockade, because if the two of those and your quarters where I am _not welcome--”_ Kravitz stops him, pulls at his sleeve.

“The emotional ramifications there, Magnus. If the residents of the cabin are gone, you can’t--you can’t panic. You can’t--if this Hunger--I won’t be able to handle it. Nor will you.”

“Why’s that?”

“Let’s wait to see what happened fir--”

He grips Kravitz’ hand tight, lowers his voice, “ _Why’s that?_ ”

“It’s imperative that we _get there first,_ Magnus.”

And Kravitz pulls a harp from nowhere--

Impulsively, “Was that in your ass?”

“Gross. It’s soulbound to me.”

“I thought it was soulbonded.”

“That’s--no, that’s not a phrase.”

“Back home, it super is. Taako was soulbonded to this fuckin’ hat that he had until, like, cycle--sixty-six? Dunno. But--”  
  
“What the _fuck_ are you talking about?”

“Weird memories. Continue with your bard shit.”

“I’d prefer you don’t call it _shit_ , really--”

But Kravitz stops speaking, starts playing. A waltz, a-flat major. Magnus knows his fucking music. That’s not new. That’s forever. That’s since his third foster mom sat him, fifteen and twitchy, down at a piano lesson and said, “Maybe this’ll keep you focused.” And it did. And he played for a crowd, once, and stopped after that, because he’d been expelled and the social worker said that that meant something was wrong, but he had played the love song about the two suns having fallen in love.

But there’s only one sun. That song doesn't make sense.

But at home, there were two. That was a story that taught children about the bonds between us all. About dependency, about distance. And the song was beautiful.

But there's only one sun.

But Kravitz is playing a waltz. A-flat major. Long C in the melody, and a short A-flat, and G, and C, and--

And a circle appears on the ground. _Barry did that_ , Magnus’ mind supplies, _He did that one a lot_ . And, dammit, _Barry_ , Barry Barry Barry, that man he’d known for so much of his life, that man he’d known for only a few days before he was burned with the rest of Phandalin, that man who’s been asking him whether or not he’s afraid these last few months, and--

And Kravitz snaps him out of his stupor, says, “Magnus. We only have a minute. Probably less, been awhile since I practiced any of my old bard spells. You might wanna hop in. We won’t quite be at the Cabin, but--it’s walkable.”

“I’ll take walkable,” he says.

He takes Kravitz' arm, outstretched, and the two of them step into the circle.


	2. from the sky.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> meanwhile: two men reject a lich's invitation to find answers. a woman learns that her brother is dead. a boy cries, and he cries, and he cries.
> 
> (or: magnus thinks about dogs. kravitz asks the real questions. the hunger devours.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda filler, here, setting some shit up. it's not gonna be easy.

Call him old-fashioned, but Magnus’d take being fired out of cannon over magical teleportation any day. This isn’t to insult Kravitz’ circle; Magnus is sure that if he knew more about magic, this would impress him. But teleportation spells just give him stomachaches. He doesn’t even have a stomach, now, and he has a stomachache. He doesn't want to know the biology of that, though he's sure Barry would know plenty. Phantom pain, yadayadayada. And phantom pain--that's funny, because he's a ghost now. That's fun. He should tell that to Kravitz.

But. In short: Magnus doesn't like teleportation.

(He remembers sparring, before the mission. Tag team. New initiates were paired with more experienced candidates—Magnus’ undergrad just-here-because-he’s-the-Cap’s-pet-project ass is paired with Taako’s meaner-twin-keeps-to-himself ass. Taako and he had a joint Misty Step going—Taako was all about evasiveness, and when it was him and a teenager fighting goddamn Wright Errol, Taako said it was necessary. And he remembers winning that fight and throwing up and passing out immediately afterwards from the motionsickness. And Taako hadn’t said shit, but he’d brought him back to the dorm he and Lup shared. Magnus woke up on a couch, and the first thing he said was, “No more teleportation.” Taako, for the most part, listened. But then again: Magnus and Taako have only known each other for a year and a half).

“We’re an island off,” Kravitz says, “This hunger—“

“Capital H,” he corrects. Kravitz gives him a Look, capital L.

“This Hunger is clearly messing with our coordinates, because I know I played the right song.”

"Right key?”

“Yes, it’s—it’s the storm. Magnus, the swim won’t take too long.”

“Can you swim?”

“Yes, I was just—caught off guard, last time.”

Kravitz looks apprehensive. Looks like Lucretia, when she lies, looks like him, faux-confidence in the face of utter incompetence. Magnus softens. He knows how to be soft. Soft gets you a duck seen by the multiverse. Soft gets you a hug as you collapse to the ground, your sister weeping over you as you forget. Soft gets you giving mercy to--someone--and--who was it--

But he softens.

“It’s okay if you can’t swim. I’m very strong.”

“I—drowned. When I died. That’s the only memory I have of being alive. So it’s not really a favorite activity of mine. The portals usually help. My Queen usually helps.”

“Fuck, dude.”

“Eloquent.”

“No. I mean—I have trouble with, uh. A lot of things. I have issues, we all got trauma. We all got our own shit to deal with. And again, I’m very strong.”

He squats, pats his shoulders to usher Kravitz up. He’s smaller than he was, back in his flesh body—five or six years on T, rather than twelve, a little bit scrappier, a little less well-fed. But he’s still strong as ever—Kravitz is trying to get comfy on Magnus’ shoulders, and Magnus barely feels it. Maybe that’s because he’s dead, but, hey, real strength is found in bonds, right? What did the bear say? The bear, the bear, the bear. That's fun. "Power bear."

“Bear?” Kravitz asks.

“I say that loud?”

“Only the bear part, and I’m—per Taako, I’m more of an otter—“

“Yeah, you’re an otter for sure. No, I was thinkin’ about my old teacher. Who was a bear. Like. Ursus bear. Not gay bear. I mean, Merle taught me some shit, but, uh. I'm not comfortable calling him--”

“Pardon?”

“A bear taught me how to fight. Not that hard to understand.”

Magnus dives into the Hunger-Tar, careful to keep Kravitz from submerging. He’s dealt with this before—see, the Hunger has its own thrall, and this time around, it’s almost tempting. Life is meaningless, we are all nothing, and fuck, when did Magnus become such a bummer? (He knows when. He hopes that, in this sea, she is safe, she is unconsumed.)

But he powers through. Kravitz is asking questions about the bear thing, which Magnus doesn’t grant answers, because, like, power bear, cycle one, if you don’t get it, you don’t get it. It’s not a hard story to grasp, not really. There are harder stories to tell. Robot worlds. Fish that look like galaxies. A wooden duck. A revolution. This one is just about an extremely powerful bear.

“But you’re not a druid or a ranger, so how did you communicate—are you a druid or a ranger?“

Surfacing for air, he says, “Nah, it was just a talking bear,” and he dives back in.

“I really can’t tell if you’re joshing.”

“Do you say joshing? Oh my God. You’re adorable. I’m calling dibs on best man. And I’m bringing that up in my speech--”

“Best man? We’ve only been together three months--”

“And he actually likes you. And three months is all you need, really. Took me three months with my wife.”

Magnus goes back underwater. Underhunger? He’s not sure. He’ll call it underhunger, because that sounds pretty fucking dope, if Magnus does say so himself. He resurfaces. It takes a good amount of time to catch his breath; this is thicker than water, and it’s hurting him, and he’s got a normal-sized half-elf on his back, which, while tolerable at first, might push him into scoliosis. Which--can dead people get scoliosis? He thinks about Kravitz’ skeleton form, if there are any wrongs in it--fingers bent out of shape like the arthritis in Magnus’ right hand, joints that bend wrong. And he can’t think of any. So, he doesn’t think dead people can get scoliosis. Nice. Good problem solving, he decides.

He stumbles upon a rock, settles down on it. To rest.

Kravitz is looking at him.

“How do you know that Taako--look, he’s--”

“I’ve known ‘im for a fuckin’ century,” (has he? How? Magnus is thirty-two. Magnus is forty-two. Magnus is twenty-six. Magnus is one hundred thirty-one. Magnus is twenty, he’s been twenty for a century, might as well stop counting. Magnus is dead. Magnus is dead), “He doesn’t just… date people. He plays hard-to-get, he, uh. Runs away. Especially--without Lup, even. I dunno how he managed to settle down without Lup. And--that means you're special. That makes you different. And that makes me--I dunno. Trust you?"

Who the fuck is Lup, and why does he keep thinking about her? Why is his brain telling him untruths, truths, whatever the fuck these are, and why didn’t Lucretia tell him, why didn’t she ask--

“Couple questions, there, er. One, you’re not even a third of the way to being a century old,” (correct. Magnus is thirty-two), “Two, you’ve known Taako for a year and a half,” (incorrect, he’s known Taako since he was eighteen and afraid, that’s Ninety-nine plus two plus twelve, which is one hundred and thirteen years. But Magnus is thirty-two), “Three, he told me he hasn’t been in a relationship for five years,” (but on the ship, there were suitors. Of course there were suitors. Everyone had suitors. But Magnus is from Raven’s Roost), “Four, who the hell is Lup?”

“Okay, you said a couple of questions, and that was only one question. Lup is,” and who is Lup?

Lup is--when he thinks Lup, he thinks about fire, and he thinks about a warm hand on his shoulder. He thinks about a year, just the two of them, trying to make sure the other doesn’t die. He thinks, that’s his big sister, and he thinks, that’s the coolest person he’s met in all of his lives and unlives. He finishes the thought, though, with, “Lup is somebody that we forgot, I guess. She was--close to us. Very close to us. She meant the world to Taako, and, uh. They’re kind of a package deal. They were kind of a package deal. But then she disappeared and we forgot her, so. She should be in here, actually, considering the multiple death crimes--I just--I can’t remember her face. Hurts my head. Specifics are coming in slow, Kravo, sorry.”

Kravitz says, “So--the seven people who popped up in my fucking book twelve years ago without any prior information of their crimes are a package deal.”

“I mean, yeah. Duh.”

“You were actually the third lowest, in terms of death counts.”

“Nice! Or. Not nice, I guess, I should’ve--”

“How did you die?”

“Uh. One time, I inhaled toxic fumes because I wanted hard candy.”

“That’s not my point.”

“What is your point?”

“I’ll think on that. Need to come up with it. Can we keep swimming? It’s just ahead, only about 150 meters.”

“What’s that in yards?”

“It’s a football field and a half.”

“What kind of football?”

“The kind you’re built for.”

“Okay, uh, cuz I played both, you know.”

“The burly one.”

“Okay, gotcha. Gotcha gotcha gotcha. Cool. Hop on?”

Kravitz does.

And Magnus, underwater, underhunger, remembers something distinct:

> _“You can’t swim?” Taako is laughing, not entirely unkind._
> 
> _“I can swim. I’m just--I’m not better than the other security candidates, and if I’m not better, you know that I’ll lose--”_
> 
> _“Mango. Mangus. Dav wants you on this. Even I’m rooting for you. They’re gonna take what I say seriously.”_
> 
> _“Just--Lup said that you were fucking--that you saved her ass, back when you were on the ships. And that you swam like a goddamn maniac. So. Uh. Gimme that hot swim dish?”_
> 
> _“You got water wings, homie?”_
> 
> _“Aw, fuck you.” The water is bright purple, because it reflects the sky. Maybe. He didn’t really pay attention in elementary school._

And the memory fades. And he’s on land, Kravitz standing over him.

“M’n’alien,” he says, spits out some tar. It tastes like black licorice, which, Magnus supposes, is a fitting taste for nihilistic eldritch plane goop.

“You passed out.”

“And I’m an alien, and you swam! Good job, buddy.”

“Don’t good job buddy me after dropping the bomb that you think you’re an alien. You, get your shit together, I’m going to check in on the residents. Make sure they’re alive. Er. Well. You know what I mean.” He mutters to himself, “Thousands of years in this job, and I’m still--Metaphors. Fuck metaphors.”

And he’s walked away.

Magnus looks up at the black opal sky. Shuts his eyes, and opens them to low depth perception and the taste of blood and two suns in lavender, and he is ten. And he just got his ass kicked. Shuts his eyes again, sees two suns covered in clouds, sees purple, muted, sees a crowd, waving goodbye. Shuts his eyes again, sees the crew, alive, sees his black eye, fresh again, sees light, and he keeps shutting his eyes, and then--

It’s back to black opal. He’s in the Astral Plane. He’s on an island called the Cabin, and now, there’s a dog licking his face. He feels ten, again. He feels one hundred. He feels ancient.

It’s an old basset hound, like Steven’s little lady named Soledad. She was a lazy thing, always lounging around the house, sitting on Magnus’ lap when he was trying to carve. And he smiles at the spectral hound, at the memory.

“All dogs go to heaven,” he says, “Don’t they.”

He pushes himself up, rubs the dog’s eyes. It makes some gentle pleased noises, wags its tail.

And Kravitz is back, just as he’s asking this thing who might be a good girl in this general area. (It’s her. It’s this dog).

“Okay, so. This is… strange. I need you to promise not to freak out, Magnus. Uh. So, this was supposed to be a dual surprise for next Candlenights, but I suppose it’s sort of necessary, now, but, uh--”

And Magnus sees a silhouette that he knows like he knows his way around a knife, like he knows like his own hand, and he feels grounded again, feels like he’s of the earth again. He’s feels like he’s floating, he feels like he’s alive, he feels everything, and--

And he feels himself being pulled down, and down, and down, and down, and down, and down, and down, and down, and down, and down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> up next: magnus remembers. kravitz makes a call. julia gets a knife.  
> yahooanswer.tumblr.com  
> smash that mf comment


	3. winter in greece

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> meanwhile: an elf, a dwarf, and a human sit together. the elf offers the human a stone. she takes it, and she doubts she deserves what it does to her.
> 
> "was gonna give it to him," says the elf, dismissive, "he got ten years off, and i can--level fourteen, homie."
> 
> he does not sound enthusiastic.
> 
> "thank you," she says, and she looks down at the table. "do you two want some wine? i have a nice case in my vault. i'm not fantasy amontillado-ing you, i genuinely just have some very nice wine in my vault, and i need to have a conversation with the two of you about... our relationship."
> 
> the elf and dwarf stand up to follow her, and they leave their bags by her desk.
> 
> (or: to live, to exist, is horrible, and magnus knows this intimately and not at all. julia gets some action and digs up some loot. kravitz gets a signal and gets some exposition.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> conjunction:  
> -a word used to connect clauses or sentences or to coordinate words in the same clause (e.g., and, but, if ).  
> -the action or an instance of two or more events or things occurring at the same point in time or space.  
> -an alignment of two planets or other celestial objects so that they appear to be in the same, or nearly the same, place in the sky.
> 
> warning: a lot of this chapter is a lil bit. panic attacky. i drew on my experiences w/ panic attacks, at least. but. thrall sucks. the Worse Version Of Thrall sucks even more.

Magnus slips, again, and he is pulled by a rising tide into the sea.

He does not drown.

Why would he be drowning?

Magnus is on the ship. It’s a cycle--which cycle? It doesn’t matter, it’s a cycle. It’s a cycle, and he’s on the ship, and he’s Magnus.

And he’s on the big couch--the blue one that he and Lucretia have claimed as their official couch. He’s laying down on it, and it’s a cycle, and he’s on the ship, and he’s Magnus.

And he’s alone. He can see their bodies, splain across the ground, and he’s alive and they’re not. And this is all for nothing. What is he for if he cannot protect them? Why was he chosen, if he cannot protect them. He’s built for that. He’s trained for that. He’s  _ made  _ for that, and he’s broken.

And he’s alive. And he’s on the ship.

And he’s Magnus.

And then, he’s not in the ship anymore, and he’s surrounded by ash, and he looks around, and he’s in Raven’s Roost--home, always home--and he is alone, and his wife is dead, and his friends are dead and Lup is dead and Barry is dead and he is dead and Julia was just  _ there, _ but she wasn’t, but she was, but--   


And this is all  _ nothing _ . 

And he’s Magnus, and he was born on a planet with two suns and a purple sky. And he had a grandfather, and he had ten foster families in five years, and he had a family, once, too. And he has a family, now, too. He was born on a planet with two suns and a purple sky (and it’s here, it’s here, it’s all in here, join us and you can see those suns again), and that was never home. It wasn’t home because he didn’t have Lucretia’s careful singing voice heard through walls. Didn’t have Taako’s careful instruction and “don’t tell a goddamn soul that I care,” whispers. Didn’t have Lup’s snorting laugh, or Barry’s hugs or Davenport’s hands showing him how to steer the ship or Merle’s soft paternity. Because it didn’t have wooden ducks. Because it didn’t have Julia. Angus. Carey. Killian. Avi. Johann. Kravitz. Merle’s kids, who he’ll never meet, but who are  _ there _ , and--

He doesn’t need to go back to a planet with two suns and a purple sky; he has nothing to return to. Check and mate, Hunger. Dumb asshole doesn’t realize that his family’s all in  _ this  _ planar system now.

And he’s Magnus. And he wasn’t born in Raven’s Roost, and he isn’t thirty-two years old, but he’s from Raven’s Roost, and he’s thirty-two years old. And all of that makes sense. And his head doesn’t hurt. And he’s nowhere. He’s not surrounded by mountains and ash, he’s not surrounded by corpses, he’s just alone.

And he’s Magnus. A mantra he knows from experience, from near-deaths and deaths proper and holding a light in his hands. He’s not hungry, he’s not cravable.

(Unless, says the part of his brain that pretends Magnus can be the slightest bit like Taako, you count this ass. And it doesn’t even sound like Taako. It sounds like him, being an asshole.)

He doesn’t feel like he’s underwater, like he’s drowning. He can see perfectly well in the dark that surrounds him. He feels small, but he is bright, scarred brown skin and overgrown auburn hair, long like Julia liked it but too messy to be endearing. He thinks, this is what Fisher must feel like, alone and surrounded by no sound, being bright in the darkness, being so big and so small. 

(He misses Fisher. It’s an ache in his chest he didn’t know he had, but it’s been constant, these eleven years alone. These eleven years, unalone.)

And he is Magnus, and he is  _ big _ .  He is five feet and eleven and a half inches tall, he is  _ big _ —wide around the chest and stomach, loud in personality and heart and anger, makes himself look like a bear or a lion. He’s intimidating, he’s  _ big. _

He feels small.

He could be more. He could be more than Magnus, more than small.

But he’s Magnus. And Magnus isn’t small.

He examines the contradiction, and then decides that he’s not going to focus on them.

He’s Magnus. No conjunction, rhetorically. A lot of conjunctions, temporally. Only superlative he’s gonna get is  _ Most Likely To Brighten Your Day _ , which he somehow won in high school; he’s not more than himself. He’s himself, and he has friends, and they are not more than, not less than.

He’s surrounded by black opal, small but not. He’s surrounded by the monster that left him traumatized and unable to protect anyone. But he’s not--

He’s not unable. He’s Magnus. He’s a protector, he’s strong, he’s not small.

And he feels a pull, sees a streak of blue light. Another of yellow light. And he remembers,  _ oh _ . Strength is other people.

He stops treading dark air, and he ascends. 

He’s in the Cabin. The dog is on his lap, he’s got a blanket over his shoulders.

“Got a barricade up,” says Julia, softer than usual (usual, like they’re back in routine), and there’s a reason to keep being Magnus right there. He’s sure he could list millions, looking at her, five years later than he should, “Should keep that stuff out while we figure out how to get the hell outta dodge. You know if there’s a physical form up on your moonbase I could inhabit? I know that some weirdo’s been growing a clone you, so you got that, and Krav’s corporeal. I dunno if I can be corporeal--”

He thinks,  _ fucking Garfield _ , but he doesn’t remark on it. He’d kind of expected as much; a clone of his body is somehow low on the Garfield Potential Horror Factor Scale.

Julia looks so intensely  _ Julia _ , surgery scar on her shoulder and battle scars on her face, one broken horn (playground fight with Danny Erkins, who remained an ass into eternity). And she’s beautiful, and she’s got her hair like it was when the rebellion(?) ended, cut short and a little bit messy. Endearingly so. And she’s so, so much, and she’s so, so beautiful.

So he says:

“There’s a woman who owes me one and some change on the moon. I think that she’ll be, uh. Down to get you a body. Some cor-por-ee-al-i-tee.”

“How much change does she owe you?”

“‘Bout a hundred years of memories.”

“You confound me, Magnus Burnsides.”

“I aim to confound, Julia Waxmen.”

“Asshole.”

And she kisses him, hard, like a woman possessed. He expects to phase right through her, considering the whole ghost thing, but, no, they clash, they connect, and it’s good, and--

And they don’t need to breathe, so he has  _ no fucking clue  _ how long it lasts. And then, Kravitz coughs, and says, loudly, “We do have kind of a limited schedule, here?”

“Yes,” says Magnus, but he keeps staring at Julia, and--God, he really can’t let this plane die. Can’t let her die, can’t let anything about this terrible, horrible, wonderful planet fade away. Her smile or Carey’s old ballet secrets or Avi’s laugh or Angus’ clip-on bowties. 

He wonders: has Taako started seeing dust take shape into people? He wonders: could Merle bear to lose his children? He wonders a lot of things.

“I got service!” Kravitz yells, and he looks very excited.  _ Dorky _ . Nerd-fucking-alert, if only Lup were here; Taako somehow managed to out-goth and out-dork her, and he wants to be there for that confrontation. 

“Do we have a plan for what to do _ after  _ calling your boyfriend?”

“He needs to transmute a mirror or something into sapphire so we can get through,” Magnus says, “He’s real good at transmutation. We saw his show on a date once, remember?”

“Oh my  _ God _ ,” Julia says, “Wait, yeah, shit, I do, that was  _ insane _ , shit--Kravitz is dating a cool person?”   


“Debatable. He’s dating an alien scientist.”

She squints. “Elaborate, Burnsides.”

“I’m an alien? And so’s Taako, and so’s my whole family, and--”

“Of course the fuckin’ amnesiac freak my dad hauls into our house was an alien. Of fuckin’ course. When this is all over--”

“Barring apocalypse.”

“World’s not gonna end, baby, we  _ got  _ this,” she flicks his cheek. He winces, smiles at her. He used to be the optimist, between them, “But when this is over, remind me to jump into the sea and give Rowena her fucking ten dollars.”

“Rowena thought I was an alien?”

“You’ve got creepy eyes, for a human. No pupils. And your heart’s on the wrong side,” Kravitz says, absentmindedly, fidgeting with his Stone, “I can’t find him in T.”

“It’s under F, fuckwizard.”

Julia continues, “I think that you being an alien adds a fun element to our relationship. I’m not opposed.”

“Fun, like, sexually?” he grins, laughs at her, and she elbows him. He looks back at Kravitz, “Taako always puts himself in as fuckwizard. My Stone, Lucretia’s Stone--not Merle’s. He doesn’t want Merle to call him that. And I made him change it to hellwizard for Angus.”

“He’s just--not there, he’s--”

“He’s under fuckwizard--”

“I  _ called  _ fuckwizard, Magnus, and he’s just not picking up.”

Julia tilts her head, “Stone get destroyed?”

His stomach turns.

Wonderland, he remembers. Wonderland, and that seems so far away from now. Wonderland that took years from Lucretia and took years from him, Wonderland that made Taako something he wasn’t, that took Merle’s eye, and he can’t protect them, and--

“Our Stones didn’t work in the dungeon we were in when I died,” he says, “And even if they’re out, the--”

“There’s gotta be a sapphire in here somewhere--your goddess souped this place the fuck up, Mags--” Julia’s gotten off the couch, and the weight on his chest that had been keeping him from panicking about that whole sinking experience is gone, and she’s gone, and--

Kravitz sits down next to Magnus. Magnus exhales.

“Can you tell me, Magnus, what the _ fuck  _ is going on? Start at the beginning. We’re gonna die in here--”

“We’re not!” shouts Julia, “I just gotta--” metal hits the wall.

“We’re probably gonna die--er-- _ fuck _ , Magnus, you understand my point--in here, so I might as well understand what’s destroying us, now that we’re not swimming or recently deceased.”

“So, uh. Define beginning.”

“How did  _ you _ get wrapped up in this? And Taako. And Merle, because, well--I want an explanation on those fifty-fucking-seven--”

“Good ol’ Fifty-seven Highchurch!” Julia swipes up in the air with the dagger she’s holding, picking encrusted stones out of.

Here’s how he got wrapped up in this:

He is eighteen, and he doesn’t really have a home--he crashes in student housing, usually, coworkers at the bar or people who take a liking to him. He is eighteen, and he sees a sign advertising a scholarship for admission to the Institute. Now, Magnus is no academic, but he knows the Institute, because everyone knows the Institute. It’s where shit happens. It’s where people get the last jobs they’ll ever need to take.

So, when his shift’s over, he rips down the poster and pulls up the application for himself on his comm (like a big Stone, he tells Kravitz, but a little fancier. More advanced) and submits it at one AM. A week later he had a letter from one A. Davenport, asking him if he’s free to talk.

And then--

“Magnus,” says Kravitz, “Can you, uh. Fast-forward, a bit. Get to the eldritch monster?”

“Was I getting distracted?”   
  
“Yes.”

“Oh. Sorry. Um. Basically: Light fell from the sky, gave us a lot of cool breakthroughs, seven of us went to space, the Hunger tried to eat the light. This happened about a hundred times, and we just. Time looped through dimensions, year by year.”

“Okay, I’m not  _ entirely  _ understanding you, but that’s progress from the one word answers from earlier, so--”   
  
“Hey, I’m dealing with a lot of shit right now!”

Julia rushes into the room, hands full of gems. She’s slipped a few into her pockets, but she hold out a fistful of tiny blue ones, and says, “I think, between the three of us, we can figure out what to do next.”

Strength is other people. Strength is three people.

Strength is admitting that he has no fucking clue what Julia thinks they’ll accomplish, here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School of Transmutation / Level Fourteen / Mater Transmutation / Restore Youth. You touch the transmuter’s stone to a willing creature, and that creature’s apparent age is reduced by 3d10 years, to a minimum of 13 years. This effect doesn’t extend the creature’s lifespan.
> 
> Background / Folk Hero / Bonds / I have a family, but I have no idea where they are. One day, I hope to see them again. / I wish my sweetheart had come with me to pursue my destiny. / I protect those who cannot protect themselves.
> 
> Starblaster Records / L.O. / Cycle Twenty-Seven / Week One / Notes on the Hunger / My experiment in retrieving tar didn't work. It didn't stick around for this cycle, disappeared before I could even bother to illustrate it. But there's something peculiar about it. Much like the Light, it called for me. Not to use it, but to become it. With the Light, you are your own sovereign. With the Hunger, you resign your agency. At least, that's what I'm concluding. Maybe I'm waxing poetic. Typically not so good for experiments, poetry.
> 
> up next: the waxmen-burnsides family shows off their proficiency with pretty much everything. kravitz gets nervous.


	4. departure, initiation, return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> meanwhile:
> 
> "you took everything from me. _everything._ you let him die--
> 
> "what the hell are you doing, kid? let's--let's talk this--"
> 
> and a woman weeps. 
> 
> "is he--is he dead? genuinely, taako, tell me, please, is he dead--"
> 
> "he never has to find out what you did to us. you think my reaction's bad? imagine his--"
> 
> but he can't follow through. his friend looks at him, and shakes his own head. and he says, "i just--it's here. we can't do anything, and lup is--she's still gone, and."
> 
> "and."
> 
> "i'm gonna take a walk. don't follow me."
> 
> he has one missed message.
> 
> (or: kravitz lies at the wrong time. julia knows her way around a hammer or two. magnus forgets.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bleh

During cycle eighty-three, Magnus asked Lucretia what made a hero. She drew him a circle. 

“From a literary perspective, a hero is someone who deviates from the expected path; who leaves the world of comfort for a journey. Someone who changes. It’s a cycle--the call, the start of the metamorphosis, the fall and rise, and then, the return. And they’re called again, and again, and again.”

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. She has a scar there, now. He wonders where from--it looked like a knife wound, not a magical incident. Scars from her own magic showed up white, stood out, but always faded away. She has a few of those spots now, on her face, on her arms, like freckles.

He should hate her.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose, though, and she showed him a circle.

“But Magnus, I don’t think we’re heroes, anymore. I don’t think I want to be a hero, if that’s what a hero is.”

Julia is cutting a stone with a knife-y device Magnus is not familiar with. There were no gems in their wedding rings--too fancy for--revolutionaries?--but Julia was proficient in just about any tool she could get her hands on. She would’ve carved diamonds out for the whole city if she had access or want. Magnus, meanwhile, stuck to the more malleable materials, the ones he knew he could shape without violence. He was not soft, as a boy. He is soft, as a man.

He thinks about the circle that Lucretia showed him. He thinks, maybe he’s not a hero. He thinks, he’s her aid; that spirit from the heavens that helps, that calls her to her destiny. Supernatural. He isn’t of this world. She is dead, but has been given semi-life again to help, and help, and help. To protect the collateral damage in crimes against fate and order. To keep them at peace. So she lives on a cabin, with dogs, with spice-scented candles, with a little garden of sunflowers like the one he planted in front of the shop. She helps the dead. Helps the needy. She protects people in all the ways that always escaped him.

He thinks,  _ Magnus, what makes a hero? _

He thinks, a conversation about dust, overheard.

He thinks, cycle thirty-five, he fell in love for the first time with a man whose name he forgets, and cycle-forty, almost fell a second time for an aide of the Raven Queen. He thinks, he just thought that was love, but he didn’t know what it was until he saw Julia for the first time.

He thinks, love is wider than that, but that’s more than love, that’s bonds. 

“You’re staring, spaceman,” she says, old nickname making sense with comet-speed, “C’mon, let’s get workin’, alright? We’re gonna get our asses to safety.”

He thinks, thinking is for other people. He prefers action. So he listens. Hums music. 

“Magnus. The Hunger,” Kravitz starts, urgently.

“Is a dick? Mhm,” he nods pleasantly, continuing mold-carving. He doesn’t have time for exposition, not when--well, he has no hope.

“It eats worlds.”

“Yes.”

“And how many world has it eaten?”

“At least sixty-eight? Including my home.”

“And there’s no way to defeat it?”

“That we know of, yet. We thought the Grand Relics would do it, but--aw, shit, she called them  _ grand _ , that’s. Fuckin’  _ her _ , I guess.”

“Who?"

“Lucretia.”

Julia hums, “Tall lady, dark skin, light hair? Young, kinda dorky lookin’?”

“That’d be her.”

“Can we call  _ her _ ?” Kravitz looks nervous.

“She’s bad at transmutation,” he rolls his eyes, “Abjuration or enchantment? That’s her game.”   


“Can she fuckin’--abjure us from the Hunger? Box that bad boy out?” Julia’s taken interest, “Abjure us in?”

“That’s her plan. It’s--it’ll cut off the planes from each other. It’s plan B.”

“She dropped you off, you know. At our doorstep. Said you were hurt, that you needed help. And she ran.”

Bards were different back home. Magnus thinks of this as he thinks of Lucretia, who could carry a tune, sure, but who, more than anything, write and write and write. Bards weren’t musicians, actors, they were--creatures of inspiration. Dealers of it. Yes, artists, but teachers, leaders, caretakers-- Lucretia was the only true Bard of the team, but he’s certain that the other five could have done it themselves. He knows he should’ve asked her for help, back in the day.

He remembers the first cycle, when she read him a poem she had written back home. They were not quite close, but they were the only constants for each other, that year, stuck on the ship and seeing the Beasts.

A sonnet. She said she thought they were corny, but she enjoyed them. Something about a girl she was trying to impress, before the… everything. Fourteen lines, iambic pentameter, which he never quite got. But he felt stronger, after it.

And he wishes he could do that. Make people stronger, using the stuff he’s good at. So he tries, and he tries, and he tries. And he forgets her, and he keeps trying, and he keeps dying.

Kravitz’ stone buzzes, softly.

“Babe?” Magnus hears, in Taako’s voice, gentler, more nervous.

“Craft time’s over, babe,” Magnus whispers, and Julia spins the hammer she’s holding. sighs.

“Taako, oh thank Her Soul that you’re okay, I’d thought--”

“I thought… it had killed you, Krav. How are you--?”

“Uh. Me and two companions are in a cabin. It’s not safe, it’s--secure, for now, though. Working on a way to cross over to you. Do you know--?”   


“Of course I know. I know--Magnus is dead, Kravitz.”

“I know.”

“Bring him back.”

“I can’t just--bring people back to life.”

Julia shoots Kravitz a Jokes, Now? Look--one Magnus is familiar with because the frequency they had to give it to each other was off the walls.

“Your Queen’s cut off, bring him fucking with you, that’s my--”

“Taako, I’m right here. Kravitz wanted to surprise you, I think?”

“Maybe.”

“Don’t--Krav. You’re--I love you? Natch, duh, but, uh. Don’t fuck with me about my family’s deceased status. Cuz whatever happens, we ain’t comin’ back.

“Can you get us--look, can you get us onto the Prime Material? Blue sapphire?” Magnus asks, “I dunno if--”

“Uh, totally? I got magic powers?”

“Taako, I can’t explain what’s goin’ on, but--you gotta trust me when I say that this is dangerous. I need to be there to protect you and--and everyone, and--you have to trust me.”

“Okay, i’Morko, listen, I know what’s going down. Uh. I fuckin’  _ cured  _ your damn sister of her old age bullshit, and she paid me back with the gut-punch of, oh, yeah, I’ve fucked with your mind for years! Which--uh, you should  _ maybe  _ have a talk? And also, like, deck her, because I’m--I’m not great at punching, and she fuckin’--”

“I thought you’d be angrier.”

“I mean, I tried to, uh, _ kill  _ her. But we’d just--like. Fuck you for dying, I guess, is what I’m tryna say. Fuck you.”

Affectionately, “Fuck you too. Don’t kill Lucretia. I’ll be back--” and he doesn’t say the last word, because he remembers, “Is Barry with you?”

“No, we left him on the planet, all lichy. Thought he was tryin’ to manipulate us with your-- you know.”

“Merle okay?”

“He’s with Dav. Helpin’ him get on his feet. We’ve managed to ward off the base, but, uh.”

“And where’s Luke?”

“Alone. Can I talk to--”

Kravitz takes the Stone back. They talk, too quiet for Magnus to hear, for a good amount of time.

“Tight schedule, boys,” says Julia.

“Okay you should see a portal open up in, like, a minute, just-- okay, I need both hands. Radical.”

And right in front of Julia, there’s a blue circle, flat, vertical, glowing a faint red-purple.

Magnus rushes the  _ fuck  _ in, pulls Julia and Kravitz behind him with either hand, which shocks Kravitz. Julia drops her hammer, and he sees light.

He feels himself start taking shape, feels himself surrounded by something. He hears things, heard Lucretia--the Director’s--voice saying  _ return, once more through the threshold _ , and when has she said that? And there’s black tar closing in on him, and--why does this  _ hurt _ , nothing here but static and light?

And that’s him, right ahead. Kravitz and Julia have phased past his soul, past the body that’s just in reach, and into the real world. He was born here, he died here, and he’ll come back here. Constants.

He falls into his body, fully, and feels something all over him that is unfamiliar. Whatever coming back to life is supposed to feel like--and Magnus is just fucking guessing here, because he feels Refuge was an exception--it’s not this.

And then, he wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yahooanswer.tumblr.com
> 
> uhhh
> 
> up next: magnus gets physical. kravitz finds a fish. julia does a hit.
> 
> please comment!


	5. tight-knit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> meanwhile, a man returns from a trip to a backroom. a woman meets a ghost and death. a truce is agreed upon. a fish is asked about.
> 
> or: magnus forgets, remembers, and does something in between.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's the last midnight.

He’s in a dark room, near silent. There were already cracks in the case he was in before he woke, but it shatters with a touch. A low buzz of static sticks in his mind, and his eyes feel like they’re skipping every couple inches he surveys.

He knows that he was dead, and that Kravitz and Julia helped him get back. He knows that he doesn’t trust the Director, but that he remembered something important about her there that he can’t remember now. He remembers--there’s a second Voidfish. That’s what the Voidfish told him.

But there’s something missing, right on the tip of his tongue. He’s in the backroom of a Fantasy Coscto, naked, and he’s _scared_. Something has clearly been in here before him--there’s the faint smell of smoke, and definite signs of battle damage. On the ground lays his own corpse,, which is, in his opinion, pretty fucked up. But it’s wearing all of his clothes--his armor, has Steven on its belt, so he kinda needs to take everything. Starts with the socks, goes up from there. He can’t get the bracer off, which. Good. He doesn’t think he wants to be a part of the Bureau, not anymore.

A note, in Taako’s lazy scrawl, on the table. _This is the seventh and last time I’m carrying your corpse anywhere. Meet me, M, L, D in L office (Traitor L not Cool L) (Team has too many M’s and L’s. Fuck all of you). xoxo Taako From TV_

_Also, if you don’t know what this means: You’re my biggest fan, and you’re my bodyguard. Thanks cool bye._

So, neither of those really make sense. There should probably be a third option. L makes him think Lucretia, but traitor L could very well be Lucas--whereas Lucretia could be argued as being cool, Lucas could not, fuckin’ creep. But, L could also be Lorraine, who works with the Seekers, or maybe Leslie, who works in the kitchen. But Lucretia is most likely.

D is Davenport, Dave, Derek, Delilah, Delia, Delia From Accounting, Death (Kravitz?), or Daberechi. M is Merle (duh).

Julia and Kravitz should be somewhere on base. Probably around Taako, considering, but. Huh.

He grabs his axe and his shield, and he runs.

He manages to be stealthy enough to get past most guards.

Until, well--

Kravitz, holding the fucking Voidfish by one tendril.

“Oh, you’re back!” he says, “We are gonna have to talk about this, once we finish up with the ▓▓▓▓▓▓. But I’m sure that my Queen will make an exception for--well, everything. Taako’s been telling me about everything, and I just--I’ve seen a lot, Magnus, been around a long time, but I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“Yeah, uh. Why are you holding the fish?”

“Lucretia had an idea, I wanted to get away from the argument--”

“We can’t _trust_ Lucretia, though, we--”

“We can’t trust her, but she’s the one keeping us safe from the ▓▓▓▓▓▓ right now. Shall we?”

“Uh. We shall?”

Okay, so he’s missing something. He’s missing the damn Big Bad. He’s missing a reason to not be damned. He’s missing a reason to call Lucretia _Lucretia_.

He bursts in, after helping Kravitz get the fish through the door, and Kravitz shuts it demurely. Julia, slightly spectral, smiles at him from Lucretia’s side, just as Taako and Merle rush up to hug him. And Lucretia, young--younger than him, even--is weeping.

But he doesn’t return the hug, nor the smile, nor the tears.

He aims his axe at Lucretia. He's not the throwing axe type, but he knows how to land a hit.

“The threaten session’s over, holmes. Should’ve been there when we cracked the end of the universe champagne, that’s when we came to a temporary truce,” Taako says, lets go,

“Kid, you’re doin’-- sorry I didn’t help enough, you know?”

“Your plan, back in the Ethereal Plane. Wouldn’t’ve failed so bad if I hadn’t been clumsy.”

“Kid, don’t beat yourself up. YOu don’t--we got each other, you know?”

“But it’s my _job_ to protect you, and--”

“We forfeited that years ago,” says Davenport. Hoarse, but. Okay, he’s high. He’s absolutely high. The gross solution his body had been kept in was laced.

“Let’s put the weapons down and have a strat meeting,” Merle says. He’s calm, less upset than Magnus is, “Our two favorite liches having been replaced by two lich hunters.”

“I’m not a lich hunter,” says Julia.

“She’s much cooler than a lich hunter."  
  
“Thanks, babe. Okay, so, you guys have the ▓▓▓▓▓, yeah? All of it?"

“Not merged, but. Yes.”

“Okay, so--divide it again.”

“Too late.”

“No, hear me out--”

“Julia, I understand where you’re going,” says Lucretia, “But I considered it, and that would spread out the damage. Not lessen it, just--decentralize it. More collateral.”

“Fuck.”

“Wait,” says Taako, “Let’s get genius number two out here--the cooler genius, but. Both of your ideas were dumb. So. Let’s get her out of here.”

He throws the Umbra Staff in the air, and it's sliced in half by Julia.

And Magnus head feels like it’s on fire, as he tries to process what he sees with what he’s been hearing, and he just--

“You’re dating the Grim Reaper?”

“Yeah, dork, I won the family goth-off. For a bigger shock, Magnus is married to a ghost, Davenport’s been--Davenport, and Merle has _children_.”

"Jeezy Creezy.”

“Juicy Crust,” Magnus supplies, his head hurting. There’s a red robe on fire floating beside Taako, now,

“Uh, so. You two. You had time for other plans, so--”

“Nah, son, we’re screwed.”

“We are entirely boned.”

Magnus is holding his head in his hands, trying to put two and two together--so he yells out what he knows, which is to say, “I think I’m a Red Robe?”

And there’s just. Silence. Everyone blinks at him until--

“Oh my God, he’s still alive,” says Lucretia. Taako’s laughing, hard, and Julia is giggling, and Kravitz is clearly working it out in his head. Davenport’s hand is on the bridge of his nose, and Merle says, lightly, “I still got the bottle.”

A guard rushes into the room, Just as Magnis takes a sip.

“Madam Director, wards are going down. Whatever this is, it’s strong.”

“I’m strong too,” says Magnus, somehow both worse and better. His head still aches, but the memories flow like honey, rather than fire. Slow, steady, sensical.”

“It’s easier for the dead, I think. Or. Undead,” Lucretia mutters, “If you were to get a body back, Lup, we should test that.”

 _Lup_ , fucking resplendent, a woman he hero-worshipped for twenty full years.

Julia and Kravitz, Fisher, and his family, save Barry, who--he needs to save. He needs to save Barry. But he has everyone, right here.

Julia had said something earlier about boxing out. He thinks about training, Misty Steps around their target until their target was surrounded, cut off from them by their incorporeality and the smoke created.

“Wait,” he says, and Taako looks at him nods.

At once, they say, “There’s a third option.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMASH that mf comment button, we're wrappin this boy up
> 
> next time: fight! fight! fight! kravitz talks to god. julia meets some like-minded souls.


	6. interlude; julia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> meanwhile, nothing changes.
> 
> (or: julia makes a friend. fate and death are lovers).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait! tech week and all that shit.

A change in perspective, Julia decides, is necessary, as Magnus--the fucking idiot, the fucking delight, the fucking alien that she married--runs off into space to destroy the apocalypse with his friends and family, leaving her behind with a lich, a Reaper, a little boy, and some mercs.

 

Which, uh, isn’t great. Because, listen, Magnus  _ just  _ died, like, today, so if he dies again, she’d be disappointed. So Julia decides to think positive, and she starts making light conversation with the other spectre in the room.

 

“So you’re basically my sister-in-law,” Lup says, “And I’m assuming those bozos never shovel-talk’d ya.”

 

“So you know, Taako was being facetious,” says Kravitz, “He married her when she was alive. She just started being a ghost  _ today _ .”

 

“You gonna Reap my sister-in-law?”

 

“No, nor do I  _ want  _ to Reap you, Lup. We need to strategize.”   
  


“No, we need to lower the anxiety levels, cuz I’m assuming there’s some pretty spooky shit in this room’s vibes, right now, no thanks to--and no offense, you two--the three of us. Creesh’s wards’ll last another ten, and I think we should spend those ten chilling the fuck out. And we got my boyf down there to help us. He’s dealt with this shit before.”

 

Julia can see what parts of Magnus he must have inherited from Lup in the way she talks, the way she thinks about people first. She’s phantasmal, resplendent, and a million other adjectives Julia couldn’t even begin to think of. 

 

“Anyway, Julia, if you hurt that boy, please know that you have six of the most dangerous individuals in the multiverse--this bit is--it ain’t working. Anyway. What’s the dumbest shit Magnus pulled while you were married?”

 

“He ate a rock one time, so you gotta think big,” Carey adds.

 

“He and I played high card draw whilst he was under a mirror. He won,” Kravitz looks at the ground, and the jellyfish spins, like it’s proud.

 

“Did a flip off of a four story rock pillar just to land one hit with his axe. I mean. I did too, but my flip was much more elaborate and I landed three hits, so. Body, knife, knife.”

 

Killian whispers something to Carey and Noelle.

 

“Okay, so he married  _ himself _ .”

 

“No, no, I’m better than him. I don’t think that needs to be shown. He was kinda a worrywart.”

 

“He’s not a  _ worrywart _ , he’s just--”

 

_ “Oh, no, Julia, don’t set the governor’s mansion ablaze--” _

 

“Please divorce him and marry me instead, oh my God. Oh my  _ God _ .”

 

There’s a noise. Julia draws her (spectral) knife from her (spectral) belt, and Lup starts conjuring. Kravitz is in front of the fish, and the mercs are all ready for something.

 

And black tar starts to flood the room, and--

 

And this is how Julia met Magnus:

 

He was passed out in front of a door, a long red scarf over his chest, a note that says  _ welcome home _ tucked into his left hand and a wooden duck in his right. He woke up after a couple minutes of her slapping his face, and he whined.

 

“Fuckin’ finally.”

 

“Where’m I?”

 

He was boyish, big dark eyes and the scars of a guy who gets into a few too many accidental knife-fights. And he was--broken. So she took him into the studio that had said his last named taped to the door, and he thanked her. Stumbled over his introduction. (Later, said he’d fallen in love in that instant. Corny asshole).

 

And she didn’t see him again for a week.

 

But that’s not important now, that’s past. Julia slices her way through this Hunger, and claws her way toward the fish, who is glowing and repelling the dark away. She can hear music, so beautiful, and she can smell fire and taste blood, and--

 

And then, two women.

 

One dark skinned, in all white, holding knitting needles; the other pale in black, holding a human heart. Fate and Death are lovers, Julia remembers. 

 

“Sing,” says Fate, and the fish complies, tells a story to the whole world as the Hunger starts to vanish.

 

“Assemble,” says Death, and Julia complies, stands by Lup and Kravitz and Angus (nose bloody, oh no) and Team Sweet Flips.

 

“My dear emissaries, Julia and Lup, I am--so very proud of you. And of all of you,” Fate hums as a story is told, “You are more than you can know; fate twisted in a way I did not quite expect, but I am glad for it. I am glad for your--”

 

“Defiance of  _ my laws _ , dear Julia and Kravitz,” says Death, and, look, Julia didn’t  _ want  _ two godly moms, but she guesses she’s going to be dealing with this all eternity.

 

“They were necessary defiances, my Queen,” says Kravitz, “You were gone. Everything was gone, and Magnus--”

 

Istus clarifies, “Magnus was not supposed to die, not entirely. He--and this is no fault of yours, Miss Fangbattle--failed a Dexterity Check that should have been resolved by Strength on your brother’s part, Lup.”

 

“Oh, so--so it was just bad DM-ing,” Killian asks.

 

“More… experimental. Listen,” Istus sighs, “Let’s not get too meta, here, this is no one’s fault. Simply the way the universe has fallen.”

 

A pillar of tar erupts between Julia and Kravitz. They swipe at it in-sync with a spectral knife and a physical scythe, and the Raven Queen preens as it falls.

 

There’s a bright light in the sky. Something opaque and glimmering and blue. And something silver, following.

 

“They won,” says Lup, before even God can argue.

 

“Like that,” says Kravitz, “Good on them.”

 

Kravitz has stars in his eyes. Julia thinks, maybe it takes centuries to understand these people; she never had the potential for centuries. But she loves them, just as he does, but he--

 

He will understand them more. She understands one, and he understands seven. It’s not quite fair, she doesn’t think.

 

But she smiles, as tar withers and two women kiss and a lich and a Reaper embrace, and two goddesses hold hands.

 

And then, 

 

light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time: magnus, kravitz, and what comes after the end of the world.


	7. an epilogue (heureux, heureux à en mourir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> meanwhile, a wedding.
> 
> (magnus and kravitz have a conversation. to live, to exist, is wonderful).

“What do we do after this?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been around a long time. I’ve seen a lot. But I was—even when I was a kid, I thought I’d be dead before thirty, y’know? And just, I’m thirty-three, one-thirty-two, whichever, and—I don’t have something to _die_ for anymore. And, uh. You’re Death, so I thought you’d know what to say.”

Kravitz is staring at him, in the curious way that Kravitz is wont to do. They’ve grown close, this last year; those hours in the Astral Plane together had forged a bond Istus never expected. Kravitz seems just as surprised, if not moreso, than Magnus about their friendship, but he doesn’t reject it. Magnus likes that about him, likes that he rolls with the punches and the blips. And he’s great to play cards with, always falls for Magnus’ cheats. 

“You can’t just be… happy that you made it out alive? That you have a family that loves you?”

Magnus takes umbrage with that. He’s happy. Of course he’s happy. The Hunger is gone. He’s got his family back. He’s got Julia and Angus and the dogs at home, his best friend just got married, and he should be happy. He’s happy. He thinks.

“I’m just not used to living for something, y’know?”

“Living’s the most important part of dying, Magnus.”

“And I’ve already died, what, thirty-three times?”

“Better make thirty-four count.”

“But—“

“Do you know this song?”

It’s soft—guitars and pianos and violins with gentle vocals. Muted through the walls. D major, he thinks. But he shakes his head; it’s a song from this world, and not one he’s come to know in the thirteen years he’s been here.

Kravitz hums along, lightly, and starts singing along, “… _Happy, so happy I could die._ ”

“It sounds. Like the stuff in Raven's Roost, kinda. Same era. How do you know it?”

“Came out right before the seven of you arrived. I would sneak out of the Astral Plane and just—see shows. Enjoy myself. I’ve been around a long time. I’ve seen a lot.”

“I guess I can’t say that around you, huh,” and Magnus laughs, hearty.

“It’s those things that you live for. Songs and secrets and knowing the right-befores. And you do live for them, Magnus. You’re doing it already.”

“I gave Carey a pep talk ‘bout. Life. And love, and change, and I know that it was true, but I don’t really—how would things’ve changed, if I’d caught Taako’s hand and left you to drown? If Julia hadn’t been in the Astral? If you hadn’t fallen for Taako, or if I’d never gone to that bar in Neverwinter or—“

“I don’t think too much would be different, Magnus.”

“And I don’t like getting caught up in the what-ifs. We found the good ending.”

“We did, Magnus.”

“The Chalice was all about good endings, but, uh. Kinda fucked that one up.”

“I kinda fucked up when I didn’t haul your asses to the Astral Plane that one Candlenights. Sometimes fuck-ups do us well.”

“Yeah, that was one of your brighter moments, for me.”

“You were trapped under a mirror.”

“And you were, like, inside of one. We were both in pretty weird places.”

Kravitz has a laugh that reminds Magnus of fireflies, quiet nights in between battles, stars just peeking out at dusk. He doesn’t know how Death feels so alive, so normal. Death, who is afraid of swimming; Death, who knows lyrics to songs about roses and love; Death, who has not just a scythe, but a harp bound to his soul. Death, who has Magnus make him cuffs for his dreads. Death, who will be Magnus’ brother-in-law.

Magnus knows Death, just like Magnus knows dying.

But, he thinks, he might like to know living just as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhh hey
> 
> so this was a fun fic! we're done! she's done! she's beautiful!
> 
> song was la vie en rose (duh) because it's been stuck in my head. the song referenced in ch1 was reeder's "julia." other music mentioned is made up. 
> 
> uhhh leave a review! leave a kudo! check out my other fics, if you want! i wrote an 11k magnus-centric au oneshot this week, and it is absurd, and you should check it out!
> 
> i love you!
> 
> yahooanswer on tumblr!
> 
> bye!

**Author's Note:**

> next time: magnus pets a dog. kravitz sees a friend.
> 
> please comment! smash those mf kudos and subscribe buttons


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